


Gal Pals and Male Friends

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: 1920's, Bromance, Clever Criminal Husbands, Established Relationship, Gay Bar, M/M, Poor Ray Palmer, Relationship Reveal, Sara Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Technically, the Legends team found out about Mick and Len's marriage about 96 years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gal Pals and Male Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dancing_With_The_Beast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_With_The_Beast/gifts).



> I hope that 1. I got your name right and 2. that this was close to what you wanted :D

New York, the Roaring 20’s. According to Rip Hunter, it was a time where Savage laid low, consolidating his assets. But he also says Savage had a hand in causing the Great Depression, so Sara’s not sure about that.

As is becoming an irritating custom, Hunter gathers Stein, Ray, Jax, and the Hawks for scouting information while Sara, Len, and Mick are left to their own questionable devices. Naturally there’s only one thing to do.

She turns to her friends, hands on her hips, and says, “Get weird in the twenties?”

Len grins without teeth. Mick rumbles for both of them, “Get weird in the twenties.”

“Let’s dress for the occasion.”

Gideon has quite a few outfits from different time periods for blending purposes stored in the back of the ship. Sara pins her hair up with a fishnet veil, then grabs a white and gold flapper dress and heels. She pains her lips blood red and applies black winged eyeliner. As for Len, under Sara’s supervision, picks a blue suit close to the color of his precious parka; unfortunately he absolutely refuses to don a hat.

Mick refuses to don anything but his normal costume. Then Len goes, “ _Mick_ ,” and he begrudgingly takes a crimson suit with an absurd burnt orange tie. Len doesn’t make him a take a hat.

Sara herds them into a quick selfie before leading them to the armory. She straps a few knives to her person, while Len not so subtly caresses a revolver as he tucks it in his suit holster. Mick insists he doesn’t need one.

Before they leave, Sara hears Mick murmur in Len’s ear, “I wanna fuck you in that suit.”

“Keep your cool Mick,” Len murmurs back, though Sara can hear a definite interest in his voice. Sure enough, he says, quieter, “Later.”

Sara hides her grin. How no one else has noticed this is beyond her.

((&))

The three of them find a club that suits their _interests_ in Harlem and have a great time. Len gets plenty of propositions, but he’s content to make out with Mick in the corner as much as he drinks every bit of alcohol in the bar. Mick’s certainly not complaining.

As for Sara, she’s found a few eligible sweethearts herself. Right now she’s dancing with a lovely brunette named Ruth, a nurse trained in both hospital and battlefield care. At this point, Mick and Len have returned to making out, Mick’s hand running up Len’s thigh and Len spreading his legs to give him more room.

Which is of course the same moment Rip and his little crew arrive. Because obviously this bar is where he thinks one of Savage’s associates hides. They make quite a tableau, earning many a stare with their strange clothing and searching eyes.

Sara lets out a disappointed sigh. She turns to Ruth, running a hand down her face and says, “That’s my team, sweetheart. I’m afraid duty calls.”

Ruth—darling Ruth, who would have definitely been Sara’s choice tonight—kisses her, red on red, and smiles. “Good luck, baby.”

Sara lets herself have one more kiss before reluctantly leaving Ruth in the crowd. Hunter’s gaze zeroes in on her.

His shoulders drop slightly. “Again?” he snaps, “How many times do I have to tell you—”

Sara smirks, “As many times as it takes for you to get in your head that we’re not your worker bees.”

“Where are Cold and Heat Wave?” Ray asks.

Oh. Well, at least something good has come out of this. “Over there,” she says, nodding to Len and Mick’s corner over her shoulder, “but they’re a little busy right now. Maybe you should come back later.”

Their expressions are everything she wanted and more. Predictably, Rip doesn’t seem surprised, but the others? Jax looks like he just caught his parents trying anal; Ray actually stumbles back a step, eyes and mouth opened comically wide as he stutters some shocked nonsense; Stein’s eyebrows nearly reach his hairline; Kendra covers her mouth because she’s laughing. Even Carter’s lips have parted, face a picture of incomprehension.

As if feeling their stares, Len leaves a last—and very visible (Ray and Jax choke)—lick into Mick’s mouth before pulling back just enough to shoot them an annoyed glare. Mick tries going for his neck, but he’s pushed away and nodded to the team.

Sara sees his lips move in an irritated _What the fuck._

Len forces him to stand with him. Together they weave through the crowd.

“What’re you fucksticks doin’ here?” growls Mick.

Patting his arm, Sara replies, “Providing me with entertainment.”

Len crosses his arms, scrutinizing Ray with a harsh stare. “Problem, Palmer?”

Ray’s jaw works open and closed for a few seconds. Then he seems to remember how to talk: “What? Problem? No—no problem, no, I don’t—I mean, I was just—”

Sara takes pity on him. “None of them knew you two were married,” she interrupts.

“ _Married_?” Jax cries.

“Can we discuss the love lives of criminals later?” Rip seethes, “We have a minion to catch!”

“When were you married?” Ray asks.

Rip puts his head in his hands.

“Why d’you care?” says Mick.

“Care? No, I don’t—”

Len raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care about marriage, Palmer?”

“No!” Ray rushes to say, “I mean, yes, I care about marriage, I just meant—if you two wanna be together, I—that’s just fine, I mean, of course it is—”

“Palmer,” Sara snickers, “relax. They’re just messing with you.”

Ray stammers some more, until he sees the smirks on the criminals’ faces. He crosses his arms, petulant. “You assholes.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mick replies, “is that a homophobic slur?”

Len shakes his head, “Unbelievable.”

Sara will laugh about this for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> LET THIS SHIP RISE
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
